


Lights and Sounds

by ColdNeon



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, It's coming, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdNeon/pseuds/ColdNeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sollux Captor has resigned himself to the continuous sledge of day-to-day work in a record shop alongside Dave Strider when one day he stumbles into a Goth show. There he meets the mysterious Aradia Megido who drags him deeper into the music world then he'd ever wanted to delve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late Nights, Stale Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> I was really, really tired and this just flowed out when I went to write some stuff. Hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think as always, especially any mistakes.

_Working in this record store will be the end of me._ Sollux’s musings sometimes felt like the only way he could get through the day, with his teeth gritted as he sat through hour after hour, staring at the clock, and waiting for enough time to pass. Maybe he’d get through this day without feeling like his eyes were going to fall out of his sockets like some old-school horror film. His fellow employee Dave was much less uptight in his handling of day to day business, as was evidence by his current behaviour; lounging on his back on one of the benches, headphones pulled on under his hoodie, bobbing his head as he listened to some up-and-coming hip-hop artist. Sollux spent a great deal of time wanting to punch the other man in the face. His easy-going nature contrasted Sollux’s own anxieties and mood-swings. He’d always thought of himself as a fairly relaxed guy but next to Strider, he was a bubbling pot of un-coolness.

He still couldn’t lash out at the other man though; it was simply impolite to treat a guy who’d gotten you a job that way. So Sollux internalised his monologue and vented his frustrations in far less practical ways, by cleaning the desk again for the third time that afternoon, then shuffling around some of the vinyl sitting in the new releases shelf before glancing at the clock again. Work was fine, he pondered, if perhaps a bit boring when there were no customers. He remembered the insanity that was Record Store Day and was kind of thankful that that wasn’t their everyday, or else he’d be an anxiety ridden mess.

Glancing over at Dave once more, he gritted his teeth. The combination of a lack of nicotine and his nerves were making him irritable and he didn’t think he could wait till the end of his shift. With a quick gesture, he ducked out the back of the store and hurriedly lit one of his cheap cigarettes, his shaking hands slowing down as the burning sensation calmed him down. As he watched the smoke curl upwards, he felt an immense sense of self-loathing run through his body. It was always like this; he’d smoke to take the edge off, but the edge would come back in a different way, determined to pick him off in any way it could possibly do. Grimacing, he took another long drag, bringing the cigarette down to its butt, before he ground it under his heel.

Making his way back inside, he was only mildly perturbed to find Dave now lying with his head hanging over the edge of his bench. Even at the odd angle, he had those bloody shades perched on his face, not even showing any sign of slipping. Whenever Sollux would do the same thing on his bed, his bifurcated shades would come sliding down and fall off his face clumsily. He made his way by his quiet colleague, sitting down at the front desk once more, checking the clock once more. When he saw that only 15 minutes had passed since he’d ducked out, he groaned. There was at least a full hour of work left before he could clock out, and that wasn’t accounting for the time he might gain if Dave would pawn some _(read: all)_ of the closing duties on him. So at the least, he had a couple of hours left to work.

The afternoon passed rather quickly after that, despite his previous transgressions. As soon as school hours were over they got the usual music crowd from the local highschool, along with all of their needs to be recommended music that they’d never buy or bother listening to. At least the hubbub provided him a way to actually throw himself into his work, something that he usually couldn’t during the day hours. The crescendo in customers grew as people who worked ‘real jobs’ started to knock off and come in to peruse the reasonable collection that they kept within the store. Dave had been running the store solo for a while before he’d dragged Sollux in as extra help, despite his complaints. Strider had argued every step of the way that the vinyl market was on the rise and that they’d definitely see the results of it. It was only now that Sollux would admit even vaguely that maybe he’d been wrong about it, as the amount of people that would browse their store far exceeded his expectations coming in.

Finally, the night was over. Dave actually bothered to stick around and help with pack up, citing “I have fuck all else to do, so hanging around with a dork like you isn’t gonna hurt.” Disgruntled by the insult, Sollux had punched him in the shoulder, but the lockup hadn’t taken all that long with two sets of hands on the job. They walked into town and split up; Dave mentioned that he’d planned to go to the bar and invited Sollux, who merely shrugged it off. He’d never been one for the bar scene. Even as a teenager, he’d never really enjoyed the taste of alcohol, and every time he’d gotten drunk, disastrous events had happened. It made him into a nasty person, one that he and everyone else didn’t like. So he made the choice to avoid being around alcohol fuelled circumstances, which was something that didn’t get him a lot of respect from the hard-spirit drinking Strider. How the pair managed to be functional roommates was beyond the Captor.

As he stood in the cold night air, he quietly exhaled while running a hand through his thick, unruly honey-blonde hair. Ruing his lack of a social life, he started to walk towards his apartment, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. However, he found himself stopping suddenly as a few darkly dressed gothic guys passed him by. For a guy who prided himself on his pessimism, he’d never understood the whole dressing-up-in-black-to-show-people-how-dark-you-are-inside thing. It just seemed overly dramatic and simply attention-seeking. Although, for some reason, he felt drawn towards them tonight and he turned, following their path down the street. The group of four walked a short distance before turning into a small alley. Continuing on his path, as if in a daze, the man found himself standing in an alley surrounded by similarly dressed people. He drew a few odd looks himself, dressed as he was. His yellow and black hoodie, his similarly coloured beanie, his blue-red glasses; all marked him out as a loner among this community of monochromatic loners.   _Great, just what I need._ He shook his head in frustration. _Now I’m a loner in a crowd of loners. Good one Captor._ Groaning once more, he got in line, following the procession into the small club, where he paid the small door fee.

Nothing prepared him from what was inside; the explosion of sound, the hazy coloured lighting pouring through the dry ice, and the strong smell of alcohol. For a guy who was most at home gaming and listening to IDM, this was not the sort of scene that he was most used to. Following the grouping wave of black, he found himself in front of an empty stage. He found himself uncomfortable with the cramped space and made his way to the back wall, breathing a breath of relief. It wasn’t that he was claustrophobic; it was more that he had a problem being enclosed by such a large volume of people. The noise was unbelievable and it was far beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. He’d been to clubs with Dave, but those were merely obnoxious and cramped. They weren’t hugely loud like this. As the youth wandered in his thoughts, the first band came on, dressed similarly to most of the crowd. There was some scattered applause, one whistle, and without so much as an introduction, the group launched into their first song.

Sollux winced, the abrasive tone of the guitars hurting his ears. _Why am I even here, why am I listening to music like this?_ He ground his teeth constantly through the group’s set, frustrated and wondering why he wasted a night that would be better spent at his computer. As he began to consider leaving, he hears a small rise in the rustling of the crowd. There’s quite a stirring as the next band comes on stage, with whispers of “posers” rippling through the crowd, with an even amount of compliments being whispered. _What,_ Sollux wondered, _could possibly evoke this sort of reaction from a crowd?_ Gently there was a changing in the lights as a grainy black and white film started to fill the back wall. It’s a weird disjointed film, made up of a series of scenes that don’t seem to tie together, except in some odd post-modern way. This, combined with the weird ripple of discontent brings Sollux back into focus on the stage. What he saw left him breathless.

The members of the band were fairly stereotypical, dressed much like many of the people in the room. What was captivating the Captor’s attention however, was the girl taking the stage. She had dark black hair that was hanging wildly around her shoulder; a fierce expression that seemed to be intimidating the entire front row and to top off her dark outfit was a neat maroon tie. The slight splash of colour was enough to show that this girl clearly was looking to aggravate the monochromatic audience. There were a few outright cheers and claps as she looked around the audience before she spoke.

“We are Bizarre Uproar and we’re here to live.” With that odd decree, the band launches into their first song. It’s a slow dreary tune, the guitars distortion frail in comparison to the previous act. There’s a sense of loss and misery seeped in the whole group, from the keyboard to the raspy guitars. And then she starts to sing and Sollux is swept away. It’s an oddly dissonant voice, with just a tad of Eastern European accent. It’s enchanting. It’s haunting. As she sings about long forgotten bones, he can almost feel it reverberating through his own. Their music was oddly therapeutic, even with the rampant pessimism dripping from it.

Between each song, the vocalist talked a bit, in which time the murmurs continued to swell. It really seemed that she was in the business to infuriate every single member of the audience. _For a bunch of people who hate conformity, these guys really don’t like something a bit different._ After a couple more songs, the band winds down, and they started to pack up. The audience filtered into the main bar and eventually there were only a few sparse people left in the room, band included. The girl’s bandmates started lugging gear out and she disconnected her microphone, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. Sollux slowly walked up to the stage, feeling oddly disconnected from the movement and found himself standing in front of the small stage and the girl. She looked down at him and her mouth quirked into a smile. “You here to tell me how much of a poser I am and how I should quit ruining goth music for literally everyone?” His mouth open and shut a few times, leaving him with the appearance of a suffocating trout.

“I… Um… Well you see…” As he spoke, he instantly regretted saying a word with an ‘s’ in it, given  how much he loathed the way he lisped words. She smiled gently and he found himself viciously blushing.

“It’s alright, any time you’re ready.”

“You guys were really good, I mean, I’m not really into this sort of music but you’re good. Really fuckin’ good.” She smiled and nodded before cocking her head. Quietly, he gritted his teeth, angry that he couldn’t even hold back

“Now, why would a guy who doesn’t even like gothic music come to a goth show to a band whose music he apparently doesn’t even know,” she smirks before continuing, “Unless you saw a cute goth girl and thought you’d try to pick her up by stammering.” Her tone goes steely and her eyes bore into his bifurcated lenses. The gaze continues for a few seconds before she giggles and breaks it off. “Ah, couldn’t even stay serious for that long.” A guy from the wings shouts to her and she spins, her wild hair flying.

“Ah, damn. Looks like I’m gonna have to cut our chat short. Nice to meet you…?” She trailed off and looked at him expectantly.

“Um, Sollux. Captor.” She smiled and nodded.

“Alright Sollux Captor, I’ll see you around then.” With that, the intriguing dark girl spun on her heel and ran off in the direction of the other guy. Suddenly jolting, he reached out and shouted out after her.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me your name!”

“Oh, it’s Aradia Megido,” she called, her voice trailing as she ran out into the alleyway. The young man stood quietly, watching as she fades into the darkness of the alley. _Well, shit._

* * *

“Wake up, prick, or you’re going to be eating cold food.”

The casual Texan drawl that Sollux has grown so used to wakes him up, same as always. After Bizarre Uproar’s aptly bizarre set, Sollux had stumbled home, encountering a mildly intoxicated Dave who was staggering down the street on the phone, trying to call his on-off girlfriend Terezi.  After dragging his inebriated roommate back to their apartment, he’d thrown him on the couch. Suddenly exhausted from the combined effort of socialisation, the blonde had staggered to his bedroom, face planting onto his squeaky bed. After rolling over, he looked up at the roof, realising that he’d left his shades on. He took them off delicately, exposing his mutant eyes to no-one but the shadows. He’d been born with two separately coloured eyes, one brown, and one blue. As a result of years of bullying for his heterochromia, Sollux had taken to wearing his trademark bifurcated glasses in an attempt to fend off any attacks on his appearance.

He’d stared at the roof, picturing the girl once more. It was if she’d been burnt into his mind, from the combination of low lights and spotlight on her. He’d smiled as he remembered her spinning to look at him, before cursing himself. How could he have been so stupid as to think she would even remember a dorky guy like himself when she had such attractive men around her, both in her band and fans. With a sigh, he rolled over and went back to sleep once more, not wanting to continue down delusion alley. It only led to pain and hurt for all involved.

“I swear Captor, if you ain’t out here in the next 5 minutes I’m gonna eat your bloody bacon and eggs.” With a jolt of realisation, Sollux launched out of bed, grabbing his clean hoodie from a chair as he raced out, before he tripped over his shoes and went skidding along the wooden floor. David’s snickering filtered down to him and he groaned, before picking himself up and staggering to the table. He slumped into his chair, rubbing at his sore eyes sleepily. Strider glanced up at him and cocked his head curiously.

“You met someone last night, didn’t ya?” How Strider did it was beyond him, it was like the guy had an 8th sense to go along with the other two he’d picked up from his brother.

“I wouldn’t say met someone. I just talked to a girl at a bar.” Dave stoically deadpans the other man for a few moments before his eyebrows twitched slightly into a frown.

“Are you saying you ditched out on my suggestion of clubbing to go get shot down at some bar?” If he didn’t know him as well as he did, he’d think for sure that the guy was seriously hurt. “You could have gotten shot down with me at your side, you’d even have pictures to commemorate it.”

Sollux sighed and ruffled his hair a bit in an attempt to stylise the rough mess that occupied his head. “She didn’t shut me down, we just talked.”

Dave slammed his apple juice into the table, shaking the plates violently. ( _When the fuck did he grab that? Damn.)_ “Woah, are you telling me Sollux Captor talked to a member of the other sex, and not only did he not get shut down, he actually held a human conversation with her?”  His voice was filled with faux shock as he held a hand over his mouth.

“Well, I mean, we talked a bit, not much, but yeah.” _Why am I stammering, this is ridiculous._ “She’s called Aradia; she plays in this weird goth band.” Dave seemed to be at the point where he was actually going to show more than his natural deadpan.

“Okay, woah, bro, I’m gonna need a moment here.” He takes a dramatic big breath, rolled his head as if stretching out, and then placed both his hands on the table. “You went out to a bar. A goth bar. You put the moves on a Goth chick, no less. And she apparently didn’t go running away from you? I’m either judging this poor girl’s state of mind, or you’ve been hiding some swagger since we first met 3 years ago.” Sollux sighed, rubbing his temple rhythmically. It was far too early in the morning for this kind of bullshit; Strider’s incessant ragging had a tendency to get past his defences far more than anyone else’s.

“She’s fine, you’re a dick, the world is fuckin’ fine Strider, don’t go wetting your bloody pants,” he groaned, before forking a spoonful of scorched bacon and sloppy eggs into his mouth. Dave smirked, eating his perfectly cooked bacon and eggs. It had become a running competition between the two to cook the other’s food badly if they didn’t respond quickly enough. This was a perfect example of that rule; you snooze, you literally lose. Sollux chewed solemnly on his mouthful of half-cooked eggs and overcooked bacon, mulling over the previous night. It’d been so long since he’d even vaguely felt something more than friendship for another person. He sighed before swallowing the disgusting mouthful. Dave slapped him on the back heartily before making his way out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

Finally free of the nerdy DJ, Sollux walked over to the stereo and clicked on one of his mix tapes. The soft radio-rock started filtering through the big speakers and he flumped onto the couch heavily. Normally the quiet music would soothe his battered nerves, but right now it just didn’t seem to have any effect. His ears were still ringing from the loud PA system and he couldn’t forget some of those beautifully haunting words coming from the mouth of that strange, strange woman. Would he even see her again? Was this just one of those sitcom moments that he’d be forever stuck regretting if he didn’t pursue it? Sighing, he groped blindly around on the floor, looking for his laptop. When his hand finally made contact, he lifted up the battered silver machine and opened it up, logging in swiftly.

Once he’d waited for the ancient machine to boot, he whipped up a search engine tab and delicately typed in the name of the band. “Bizarre Uproar, huh.” He hit search and found a few results, one for a Facebook page, and another for a Bandcamp page. Smiling gently, he opened both of the results in separate tabs, before clicking on play for the player. Quickly hooking the aux cable into his headphone port, he placed his laptop down onto the couch, listening as the song started. It was clearly an amateur recording, but the quality was pretty good. Softly that haunting voice came through, quietly sing-talking the opening lines before the rest of the band came in. The hopelessness and melancholy that was fairly evident in their live show was far more noticeable on the record. He flicked over to the other tab, scrolling down their feed in an attempt to find out a bit more about their music and the band themselves. A sigh of relief passed his lips as he saw their hometown was in fact the city, briefly thanking whatever gods were up in the sky that they weren’t a touring act. As he scrolled down, he noticed that they only had a few hundred likes, so it wasn’t like he’d tried to romance a legitimate rock-star ( _romance?_ _where’d that come from?_ ). Eventually a picture of them came up, with Aradia standing in front of the guitarists with a look of grim determination. _God, she’s attractive._

He sighed and placed the laptop on the ground, looking up at the roof idly. His imagination took over and he imagined himself going to another show to see her. He’d had a taste of a world that he’d never dared to deal with before and now he felt himself getting dragged towards it, all for this random girl. Sollux Captor had feelings. Feelings were the enemy, they let you get hurt. But for once, he wasn’t so scared of them. _What the fuck is happening to me?_


	2. Monochrome Days, Sleepless Nights

Being Aradia Megido is an interesting phenomenon. Some days, she’d love nothing more than to jump off the ship, ride onto the sunrise aboard some random stranger and never have to deal with her life again. On others, however, she found herself loving every moment of it. As she stood on the stage, she watched out over the crowd of black and white. It always astounded her how the crowd of individuals all looked so similar, but she knew that was just part of the game. Swelling her lungs, she pushed out the words and let her feelings shape them. Being on stage was one of the best ways to feel alive, even when the words she sung dripped with her melancholy feelings, but she treasured the time all the same. Once more glancing around the audience, she notices a brief flash of colour and found her curiosity piqued. As the crowd separated one more, she spotted him there, the tall lanky boy with yellow and black clothes, looking so out of place that she found herself wondering if he’d entered the bar by accident.

Making sure never to look at him for too long, she continued to glance at the stranger, wondering just why he was here. Before she knew it, the show was over and she was packing up. Aradia was well aware that their performance had stirred up the docile crowd and she was certainly not oblivious to the comments of ‘poser’ that were whiplashing around the crowd. Ever since she’d joined Bizarre Uproar, she’d been the main source of criticism from the cliquey Goth crowd. It was a hard nut to crack and she knew that the comments were starting to affect the other members of her band, who were far more ardent in their gothic nature than she was. It was just one of those things. She sighed, packing up the little pieces of equipment, before suddenly that tall strange guy was standing in front of her. _Oh god, is he a stalker? Is that what this is?_

She politely put up her typical façade and started to talk to him as he stumbled and stuttered his way through their conversation. There was an odd quality to him, one that she found kind of endearing. His lisp was cute though. Suddenly, the spell was broken when Rick the guitarist started calling out to her, his tone snarky and pissy. Inwardly sighing, she politely excused herself from talking to the guy, even though she’d have happily gone on with it quite a while longer. As she started to run off, she heard him call after her, asking for her name. She spun around, hair spinning bouncily around her face.

“Aradia Megido.” She waved once more before running after her bandmate, looping her arm into his. She always found Rick’s friendship comforting, even if he could be quite depressing and downright boring whenever he got into one of his monologues. At those points she’d just tune him out and hum the words to their songs internally until he stopped. It was surprisingly effective and she valued the habit greatly.

Rick seemed a little fidgety tonight and she knew it was probably over the minor mistakes he’d made throughout the show. She nudged him slightly and smiled, “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it Rick, your mistakes wouldn’t have been noticeable.” The tall gaunt man grunted, scratching at his clean shaven jawline, before looking away. Aradia sighed, it was evident that the guy had something to say but couldn’t quite spit it out. She patiently walked alongside him, humming the lines for _Flash Photography_. It was a song she’d written whilst walking around town at night, watching people taking photos of the night landscape.

After a while, Rick finally coughed and spoke up. “So, uh, Megido, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something for a while now.” The weird tremor in his voice gave away that this was he was extremely nervous about this or didn’t want to talk about it. “The guys have been talking and well, you’re causing some trouble for us, as you already know.” Aradia gritted her teeth tightly, she knew that this was coming, she could only stir the scene so much before the repercussions had an effect on the band itself. “They’re putting the pressure on to kick you out, but I can probably push them into keeping you in.” Aradia let go of him and raised an eyebrow; this, she had not been expecting.

He smiled gently, “It’d be a lot easier to do it if y’know, we were a thing.” Suddenly, the penny dropped and Aradia baulked at the idea. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, per say, rather that she never found herself interested in him. She’d always preferred to be alone rather than in a stressed out relationship with trust issues and arguments up to the hilt. Rick was staring at her expectantly, his face deadpan as always.

“Rick, look, you’re cute but I’m not going to hook up with you just so I don’t get kicked out of the band,” she said politely, watching as a twitch ran across his face. The tall man kicked his feet along the ground, scuffing his heels back and forth.

“Well, ‘Radia, it’s the only way I can twist it, and you’re way too invested to let go of this so easily,” he mumbled quietly, before reaching his hand up and stroking a hand down her cheek. His hands felt as cold and she shuddered under their touch, feeling rapidly uncomfortable with the spiralling situation. Before she could respond to the lecherous comment, he leant in and kissed her softly. Not responding, she held still for a few moments before leaning back, putting her hands both flatly on his chest and pushed him back.

“No, I’m not going there for the band. I don’t care if they all want to kick me out, I’m not going to sleep with you just to stay.” The other Goth looked at her angrily before smacking his palm into the wall next to her. There was a tense silence and he glared at her for a few moments before twirling around and walking off. He was a few metres away when he turned around once more and looked at her.

“They’re kicking you out on Monday, come get your shit then.” With the last line, he turned and stalked off into the night. Aradia was left alone, quietly standing in the cool night air. She looked up at the sky, wondering what she’d do with herself now. She could give up on music entirely, focus back in on Archaeology, get a job, spend the rest of her life working through that path and she knew that she’d be happy if she went that way. But there was something alluring about the sleepless nights, pouring sweat and crowd singing along to words that she’d put on paper. Sighing, Aradia heavily slumped against the light-pole and slid slowly down to the ground.

It wasn’t like she’d admit to the fact in front of Rick, but she’d genuinely loved the time she’d spent with Bizarre Uproar. Two years of hard work, networking and practice had all just gone down the drain and now she was back to square one. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a long cigarette, lighting it swiftly.

That was how the next few hours passed, with the dark clothed girl sitting on the cold pavement, smoking her way through her pack of cigarettes. As soon as the last one died, she’d flick a new one to life. She wasn’t particularly fazed with the idea of dying; after all in the Goth scene it was basically a requirement. Even as a child, she’d been fascinated with the entire concept of death and had thrown herself into reading about all the different gods of death and how different cultures viewed the passage to death. She’d been fixated on the concept of judgement around your death and enjoyed learning about the different ways people thought one was judged when they died.

As she’d grown older, she’d become more susceptible to more self-destructive behaviours such as drinking to excess and smoking. She’d always had a taste for strong spirits, loving the way they burned as they went down, really making her feel alive. It was that burn, she supposed, that attracted her to cigarettes as well. Life was made up of experiences, and she intended to have as many as she could, even if she had to burn her candle at both ends to do just that. As the last embers of her last cigarette burned out, she sighed heavily, before brushing her coat off and standing up.

It was time to head home and lie in bed for a few hours, before getting kicked out of the band. The girl hauled her ass and staggered back to her tiny apartment, slumping onto the mattress and ignoring the pile of study that’s been steadily building up on the floor. As she lay underneath the mouldy roof, she sighed heavily. _What a night._ Her musings brought back into mind that strange lisping guy she’d been talking to. It was only for a moment, but she felt like she’d sensed a kindred spirit in him. Discontent spread inside her chest as she realised that he might go to another Bizarre Uproar show expecting to see her but would get whatever ring-in they pulled in from the sidelines. _Wait, why am I thinking about a guy I don’t even know like this?_ Sighing, the girl rolled over and closed her eyes. Her insomnia would not let her catch much more than a few piece of broken sleep, so starting sooner would give her a few extra moments to rest.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, the early touches of morning light were starting to filter in through her ragged curtains. Rolling over, she lifted herself up and moved over to the tiny kitchenette, switching on her little black kettle. Whilst it boiled, she turned on her aging laptop and waited for its exceedingly long boot time to pass. She found herself humming _Disorder_ by Joy Division as she went about her morning routines, cleaning her small apartment, cooking two pieces of toast and spreading plain butter on them. The odd habit was something she’d picked up as a little girl in the foster house, making sure to spend as little time in a place where she could get beaten and have her meagre meal taken.

As her computer finally turned on, she got online and logged into Facebook, finding that she’d been booted from her admin privileges on their page. Sighing, she tapped onto the search bar and let the cursor flash for a few moments. _What was that guy’s name again? Solace? Nah that’s too Goth for a guy who didn’t even seem to like the other bands. Pollux? Sollux._ Grinning, she searched for the stranger’s profile and clicked on the first result. The picture was obviously fairly recent, with the guy and some other medium height guy.

The two of them seemed disgruntled about the photo but it was a fairly nice shot. His profile was pretty average for a guy of his age, although it was interesting that he had no romantic partner or any sign of a romantic interest, although it was clear that he had lots of his profile available only to friends. Humming quietly, she ran her cursor over the small friend button before pausing on the spot. Would he find the random Goth chick from the night before adding him weird? Would that be okay? She shrugged for a few moments, before roughly tapping once on it. Life’s there to be lived after all, regrets were the enemy. She glanced at her vintage watch and choked on her coffee when she realised that she was half an hour late to her shift at the coffee shop, a position which was already delicate enough given her tendency to come in late or falling asleep on the counter.

She raced down stairs, hurriedly pulling her jacket on and rushing down the staircase, jumping multiple stairs and almost falling face first down the flights of stairs multiple times. Gritting her teeth, she flew out into the street and bolted in the direction of her coffee shop. She was flying through the street when she collided with a random guy, knocking him into a tree. He glared at her from behind his thick aviators, but she wasn’t being held up by angry pedestrians and she pounded continuously along the pavement.

Finally, her onslaught paid off and she came hurtling into the coffee shop, terrifying pigeons and customers alike. Her manager was staring daggers at her over the counter as she hurriedly threw her apron on, not even bothering to open the counter, she slid over the countertop and landed behind neatly. Wiping the warm sweat from her forehead, she quickly ran to the till and greeted the customer. Ignoring the death stare that her boss was currently boring into her back, Aradia politely took the customer’s order and set about crafting the caramel latte.

Her shift passed quickly, but as the time drew to a close, the looming presence of her boss started to increase. She gritted her teeth as she was fairly certain that she knew exactly what was looming on the horizon. Hanging up her apron at the end of the rack, she turned back to find her boss up in her face, his teeth twisted into a horrifying slasher smile. She returned the smile uneasily as he guided her into the back room and shut the door quietly behind them.

“So, what’s your excuse today Megido? Aunt died? Boyfriend murdered? Hair on fire, oh wait, that already happened!” Aradia has always hated this snide assholes tone of voice and he was not doing himself any favours right now, but she desperately needed the money. So instead of snidely responding to his comment with some choice words about his retracting hairline and the state of his marriage, she listened with a tipped head and apologetic expression.

“I’m really sorry sir, I was performing last night and I guess I overslept this morning,” she mumbled apologetically, her head bowed gently. Her boss shook his head dismissively, before sneering back at her.

“I’m sure you really are, but you’re becoming more and more of a liability to have on staff,” he spat, “You’ve already been late for the last 4 days, and it doesn’t matter how many excuses you make, I can’t be bothered covering for you anymore. I’ll give you a week more so that we can find someone else to replace you, but after that, Miss Megido, you are fired.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall. This situation was spiralling wildly out of control; already her thoughts going on to how she could save money and keep her head afloat for a month or two that she’d need to find a new job. The extra week of shifts would definitely help her in getting the funds together, at least, enough to keep her going for the future weeks.

Grimacing under the weight of the responsibility, she rushed out the shop, not wanting to let her boss have the advantage of seeing her so emotional. As she ran down the street, she wiped at her eyes, trying to keep them clear of the pushing tears. _Why is everything going wrong?_ She came to a stop in the street and looked up at the cloudy sky, her breath coming in sharp huffs. She needed to find somewhere to hide out for a while, to get a break from the haze that was sinking into her brain.

A quick glance around the square revealed a small record store and sighed a breath of relief. _Perfect._ She made her way inside and was instantly immersed in a completely different world, the soft rock music jamming in the background, the records all held up on different hoists, the dangling ancient records swinging lightly in the air conditioned room. The immersive atmosphere was exactly what she was seeking, diving immediately into the gothic rock section, flicking through old pressings of The Cure’s _Pornography_ and Christian Death’s _Only Theatre of Pain._ Just seeing the old records in a store for sale was enough to make her heart swell.

Gleefully she lost herself in the ancient vinyl, looking through the various, intricately ordered sections. There were even records here for genres that she’d never heard of before. Power electronics, death industrial, vaporwave?  _What the hell is that?_ Was the guy who ran this place an expert on all the bizarre subgenres out there? As she confusedly stared at a vinyl that was apparently recorded by an act named Whitehouse, a guy came up behind her. “Hey, not often you find a girl into an act like Whitehouse, especially with a cover like that?” She looked over her shoulder and double-took as she saw the man in front of her; the aviator-clad man from the morning, the one that she’d collided with. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it is me, the one who knocked you on your butt this morning.”

The air was still for a few moments before the guy shrugged, “Ah, fuck it, who cares, you were obviously in a rush. I can’t hold that against you. Evidently you’ve got a pretty advanced taste, goth girl.” Suddenly a look ran across his face and he gently raised an eyebrow. She quizzically tilted her head ( _what on earth was that about?)._ “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to play in a band would you?” _Oh._

Aradia turned, running a hand through her hair, trying to disguise how much the question was rattling her. “Yeah, I guess, I was.” He takes her answer into consideration for a few moments, before smirking slightly.

“You got booted eh?” There’s something about this guy that’s unnerving her, like he knows something about her and she knows nothing about him. Maybe it’s the combination of his all-knowing vibe radiating and his dorky wannabe-cool-guy façade, but it’s almost scary. Almost. Time to put on the cool-goth vibe.

“Eh, life is meaningless, one lost jerk band won’t kill me.” She smiles softly and a twitch of a smile plays across his face. Suddenly, he looks up at the clock, his head whiplashing around so quickly she can barely process the movement. Glancing up, she watched as the clock ticked up to 4 o’clock and raised an eyebrow. The guy must have spider-senses or something to be this tightly wired and in tune with time. _Weird._

_“_ Ah shit, _”_ he muttered, “Sorry, I’m gonna need to cut this lovely conversation short and switch with my friend Captor.” He smirked, obviously getting a kick out of her reaction to his mentioning of that surname. Spinning, he whirled behind the counter, pulling on the red hoodie that she’d seen him wearing that morning, hurrying out the door, without another word. Relative silence descended upon the record-store, the loud guy’s voice no longer a constant pounding beat to the room’s natural vibe. Aradia stood quietly, pondering what to do now, before her quiet was broken by a loud lisping voice shouting.

“I swear to god, Strider, if you’ve fuckin’ checked out before I got in the store again, I’m going to kill you.” A young man strode (aptly enough) into the building via the backdoor and opened his mouth, evidently to start a profane line of cursing when he noticed the girl standing there. Even behind his goofy, multi-coloured glasses, she could see his eyes widen in shock. The two of them stand there for a few moments, both in a state of shock and denial. _Was I set up? Did that Strider guy do this just so I could see the guy from last night again?_ Before she can say anything, the guy is pinching his bridge and cursing under his breath, quite audibly beating himself up.

“God, you probably think I’m some kind of fuckin’ stalker right now, don’t you?” he grumbled bitterly, turning away to organise the records on the table. Aradia decided to quickly defuse the situation by laughing, and putting the record she’s been holding for the last 15 minutes back.

“Sollux, you’re fine, trust me, it’s not exactly the biggest town in the world,” she smiles softly, “It’s actually nice to see a friendly face after the day that I’ve had.” The blonde raised his head with a quizzical look on his face, resting his elbows on the counter. She smirked, making her way over to the counter and leaning back on it.

“Well, before I even made it home, I basically got kicked out of the band unless I slept with the guitarist, then I was messing around too much before work and now I’m getting fired as of next week.” Sollux winced and shook his head.

“That shit is seriously messed up,” he muttered and the gothic girl started to notice the tense air surrounding him had dropped a little bit. She smiled, before shrugging and rolling her head backwards to face him.

“Well, it’s all a week in the life of a goth princess,” she smirked, her voice devoid of tone. “After all, life is meaningless and struggling against it is far too much of an effort for a night owl such as I.” Sollux frowned, obviously taken aback by her sudden transformation, and she rolled around, punching him in the arm. “I’m kidding; I hope you don’t think so lowly of me to think that I’m some tween Goth girl.” The whiplash between tones seems to be giving the guy a headache, so she relented.

“No offense, Aradia, but you are completely insane.”

“I know Sollux.”

The two exchanged a look and snickered. Aradia found herself smiling naturally for the first time in a while. There was something about the pessimistic, snarky man made her feel safe and comfortable. He didn’t push her or aggressively flirt, he merely cruised along at his own pace, not feeling a necessary urge to match social trends. He was crass, he was unapologetically a dick, and most importantly, he was _fun._

She’d been trying to find good friends within the goth scene for quite some time, but apart from a few select individuals, she’d not found a single person that she’d want to spend a great deal of time with. Sollux was already turning out to be the sort of guy that she could have around and trust, which was more than could be said of her former bandmates. She mentally shook her head in disgust at the audacity of Rick, ransoming her position in the band to her for sexual favours. What an absolute jerk.

“I really liked your voice though, it was definitely the stand out of the show,” Sollux commented quietly. Aradia flushed at the comment, the soft red spreading up into her pale white cheeks.

“Well, apparently my band members didn’t feel the same way,” she sighed and the bifurcated man grimaced. The topic was still a sore spot, and it was evident that advice wasn’t particularly the greatest strength that he had.  His eyes flittered around behind his glasses, as he obviously tried to think of something worthwhile to say, but drew a blank.

“It’s okay, I just needed to vent to a bit, but you’re probably thinking I’m nuts right now.”

Sollux shrugged before giving a lame toothy grin, “We’re all mad here. Strider especially.” Aradia giggled through her hand and the two smiled and continued their soft conversation. _Yeah, this can work._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback for chapter one! Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do.  
> Also, I do not endorse listening to Whitehouse, it's pretty horrendous and not advisable. At all.
> 
> Do, however, listen to Pornography by The Cure if you haven't, it's a great listen, I endorse it highly.


	3. Broken Spirit, Open Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 for 3! Gonna do some edits for this in the morning, but enjoy!

There was a lot of ways that a day in the life of Sollux Captor could go, but he had to ascertain that arriving at work to an empty building devoid of workers ( _good fucking work Dave)_ and a goth girl that he’d never expected to see again standing by the power electronics collection ( _seriously, what the fuck_ ) was definitely something that he’d never expected to experience. What astounded him more than anything was just how easy conversations flowed with Aradia. There were never any awkward silences, and if there were genuine silences, they were completely comfortable. It was something he’d never experienced before in his life and it astounded him. Sure, he could verbally spar with Dave until he was blue in the face, but he never really found himself enjoying it. This was the first time he’d ever clicked so easily with a person.

It scared him shitless.

 _Doesn’t she have a job? Why is she hanging around a dorky music shop? Is she going to buy anything?_ Questions whirled through his head as the two passed the time in the music store. He learned that she was Japanese-Italian, her family had moved to the city after previously living in Italy, which was why she had a faint ( _or strong_ _depending on the context of what was being said_ ) Italian accent. He found out that she’d been immersed in the music scene since she was a kid, learning piano at 4, something that Sollux found immensely daunting. Although at the same age, he’d been stripping his first computers, as well as reassembling them. Aradia had first been introduced to Goth music by a highschool boyfriend who’d taken her to shows where she’d taken to the cynical, depressing nature of the style. It had been, in her words: “All downhill from there.” She’d studied music at university, although she would have been happy to study archaeology as well but “That wasn’t very Goth. Even though dead things usually are. Don’t ask me on this logic. Being a Goth is hard.” That had brought a smile to his face. 

And then the questions had turned onto him. Did he have any brothers? Sisters? Parents? Was there a Mrs Captor? A Mr Captor? He’d answered all of her rampaging questions to the best of his ability, pausing intermittently to deal with a group highschool students who’d come in to buy the newest generi-core record from some label he didn’t care about. The only reason they stocked those records according to Dave was; “ _It’s really fucking funny.”_ Aradia had given the kids a funny look as they walked past her, before snorting loudly.

“God, those kids have an awful taste in music. I can’t believe they bought a record by a band called ‘As Days Pass, We Remember Trivial Details of Death’!” she laughs, “That’s not even a band name, that’s a song title!” Sollux had to smirk at that too; the band name itself took up most of the cover, leaving little room for the unnecessarily detailed cover. Aradia got up and spun on her heel, looking back at him, “And did you see the way that one guy leered at me? Like he’s sooo much better because he listens to hardcore and stretches his ears well past their limits!” As she ranted, she spun around again and moved to one of the vinyl shelfs, flicking through the pile, evidently looking for a very particular release. There came a gasp as she found it and moved across to one of the numerous record players that took up space in the building and gently placed the vinyl on. Lightly she lifted the needle and placed it upon the record. Sollux had found himself expecting some more gothic rock, at least in the vein of her previous act but what he found himself being subjected to had to be one of the whingiest, cringe-inducing vocalists of all time. As the first song played out, she came back to her seat on the bench, swinging her feet back and forth, with a soft smile playing across her face as she hummed along.

“Jesus Christ, Aradia, this is fucking abysmal, even for emo music,” he grimaced as he spoke, “I thought it would be un-goth of you to listen to music that was not inherently Goth in nature.” She shrugged, evidently unfazed by the accusation. For a person from such a strict subculture, she was pretty chilled out.

“I’ve never subscribed to that whole ‘what you listen to is what makes you goth’ stuff, it’s ridiculous,” she said whilst bobbing her head in time to what appeared to be the singer retching up his vocal chords in an attempt to seem melodramatic. “I enjoy La Dispute’s ability to convey a great deal of emotion through vocal ability and dynamics rather than just lyrical ability.” He didn’t agree that the vocalist had any semblance of ‘vocal ability’ but he wasn’t the one who listened to this sort of music. Most of the time, he listened to long ambient tracks that would help calm his nerves. The erratic nature of the song was enough to string out his already fried nerves and he couldn’t imagine possibly listening to this sort of thing in order to unwind.

“If you dislike my taste in tunes so much, why don’t you take control of the playlist for a while?” It was a goad. She was testing him; so of course, there was only one way to respond. Shrugging, he made his way to the post-rock section, looking for one particular record that he knew that should be there. After a few mistakes and backtracks, he found the one he was looking for and flipped it onto the now-empty vinyl player – Apparently Aradia had been switched on enough to remove the previous vinyl while he’d been bustling around. Finally, the opening notes radiated outwards, the gentle ring of the guitars beautifully filling the room. He made his way back to the counter where the girl had her eyes closed and was swaying back and forth in time to the gentle melodies. When the violin started to take the lead, a small smile crossed her lips and she opened her eyes.

“It’s beautiful already. Who are they?”

“It’s some foreign group called En Plein Air. I thought this was a good album to listen to given its tile; L’alba irradia I’nutile parola.” He stumbled a bit on the pronunciation before she repeated it back at him, inflection right and everything. Her smirk rubbed it in and he frowned, a bit annoyed at it.

“Don’t feel bad Sollux, I speak fluent Italian so it’s to be expected that a group like that would be easy enough for me to pronounce.” He shrugged and let himself fade away with the music, enjoying the calming nature of the post-rock styling. Aradia grinned at the joke between the pronunciations of her name and the song and Sollux found himself smiling that the joke hadn’t gone straight over her head.

And that was how the evening passed. The two of them sat together listening to records that they liked, whilst critiquing them, usually provoking an indignant response from the other person. Aradia tended to like music with a lot going on, but was content with anything emotive. Sollux liked to listen to a mixture of genres, but his main staple genres were IDM and anything that was long and could stir strong emotions. The two tended to agree on what precisely was able to create that emotion though.

It was only after a few hours had past did they realise that night had fallen; they’d gotten so caught up in their music listening that time had passed like water down a drain. When they looked out the door, it was evident that they’d been completely distracted because the sky was coated in a deep navy belt, with no trace of the sun. Aradia picked up her coat, wrapping herself up once more in its warm embrace, while Sollux pulled his beanie back on and slipped his hoodie over his head, knocking his beanie off once more. The Goth giggled at his mistake while he grumpily pulled his beanie back on and locked the door behind him. 

She wove her arm into his as they walked along the cold night street and he found his anxieties surging forwards like a platoon on a beach. His insecurities started to tear at him and he felt himself grow short of breath before he suddenly realised that he was no longer walking. Aradia was standing in front of him, her hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders. “It’s okay Sollux, focus on the now.” It reminded him of what one his many therapists had told him to do. By focussing on the present, he could detach himself from his anxieties, if only a little, and reduce the impact they had on him. It only ever worked to a minor degree but he figured it couldn’t hurt to at least try. So there they stood. Whilst he tried to control his inner focus, her hands continued to grip his shoulders and her eyes bored into his impertinent shades.

Slowly, his breathing started to return to normal and he nodded, feeling oddly disappointed as her hands disconnected from his shoulders. He opened his eyes, unaware that he’d been squinting his eyes shut for the duration of his panic attack. The odd thing was that he was glad that she’d only seen him get anxious, rather than one of his mood swings. His current meds were doing a reasonable job of keeping his moods stabilised but there were still days, weeks or even months that he’d be stuck in a series of bipolar swings. They were intimidating and usually were responsible for the people no longer wanting him around. Shaking his head viciously, Sollux continued his walk along the street, Aradia at his side.

“Hey, Sollux?”

He turned around and looked at her questioningly, “Yeah, what?”

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” Sollux side-eyed her and shrugged nonchalantly. It wasn’t like there was anything for him to lose.

“Alright, Aradia.” After all, how could dinner possibly go wrong?

* * *

The two of them grabbed a small takeout meal from a family-run Chinese restaurant, one that Sollux had never been to before. Aradia was actually on a first name basis with the owner, who asked if Sollux was her boyfriend, causing her to wildly blush before shrugging it off. When they’d finally managed to shrug off the inquisitive manager, they ordered a large serve before making their way back to Aradia’s apartment. The area was quiet, but there were a few homeless people around, most of them resting in shop doorways.

 As they arrived, Sollux found himself a bit alarmed by the state of the building, but the reassuring presence of Aradia was enough to keep him stable. As they made their way through the tacky halls, he noticed that most of the building was degraded, or outright rotting away with moss and mould. There was even a passed out hobo lying in the hallway as they unlocked her door. It reminded him of that old _Simpsons_ episodes, where Bart went downtown and saw all the rough areas of the city. That was the one thing that amazed him most about this city; how it could go from clean and tidy to lower class within the space of a few blocks.

She gritted her teeth as she opened the door and Sollux got a sight of her room. It was tiny, cramped and everything was in various states of decay. She guided him across to the small table on the floor and placed the food there, inviting him to sit down. Crossing his legs, he sat down gently on the cushion and smiled reassuringly at her, trying to calm her down a bit. There were signs that she was struggling with her inadequacies, and it was evident that she didn’t have visitors here often from the way she looked like a rabbit frozen in the headlights.

He rubbed his hands together before setting into his meal. He hadn’t eaten that well all day so he found the warm food just made him realise how hungry he was.  Aradia was far less enthusiastic about her food, slowly picking away at her noodles with her chopsticks. Conversation was light and Sollux suddenly realised a way he could cheer her up a bit. The downside was that it might seem a bit weird, given that they’d only really known each other less than 24 hours.

“Hey look, if you really need a job, Dave’s always looking for extra hands in the shop, and you’ve shown that you know your shit, so it’d be a cakewalk if you wanted the job. Plus then you’d have a reason to sit around the shop with nothing to do.” Aradia looks shocked at his offer; it was obvious that no one had done her any sort of favour in a while.

“Sollux, that’s so nice, I mean. You barely know me; do you really want to recommend to your boss and roommate? That’s huge.” She was so excited that she didn’t even give him time to respond so he sat back and just let her bounce excitedly around the room. After a while she slowly wound down, before retaking her seat on the floor. She froze and looked at him oddly for a moment and mumbled, “You don’t want me to sleep with you for the position, do you?” Sollux was stunned; he hadn’t been expecting a question like that. _Where the hell did that come from?_

“No, of course not! That’s ridiculous.”

She was quiet for a while longer, apparently checking his statement mentally to assure herself of its validity. Finally she nodded and smiled. Now that her anxiety had abated, she ate ravenously while talking about her interests at length, particularly archaeology and death. She had a wide grin as she talked at length about an Aztec death god, and it was something that he was sure would unnerve anyone else. She really seemed to get excited about the grimmest parts of the rituals and stories of sacrifice, and he supposed that to most people, that might be pretty unnerving.

However, Sollux Captor was not really anyone else.

So when it started to get late and she invited him to a graveyard of all places, he found himself agreeing to tag along. Albeit, with some obvious apprehension. _What the fuck is happening to me?_ The two slowly ran through the night, before they came to a shut gate, which Aradia clambered straight over. Sollux looked up at the fence and sighed. Slowly, but surely, he clambered over it. _This has to be the most ridiculous afternoon and night of my life._ When he landed on the ground next to her, she grabbed his hand and dragged him quickly through the headstones. He stumbled along behind her, nearly tripping and falling on his face multiple times.

Despite his rocky footing, he managed to keep up with her, struggling to hold onto the bucking bronco in front of him. His lungs were on fire, his hair was drenched with sweat, and he was sure that his pale skin would be bright red if he could actually see himself. Finally the two came to a stop in front of a small granite gravestone and Aradia squeezed her hand tightly on his arm. Her nails drew blood but he barely registered it when he read what was on the headstone.

On the gravestone it read:

_H. Megido._

_Mother of two._

_Loved, missed._

_1965 – 1995_

Sollux felt a chill run through his core. He hadn’t even noticed that she didn’t have any photos of family or any photos around her apartment. She had a sad, intensely forlorn expression on her face when he looked over at her and it looked like she had a few tears trickling down her face. He reached over and pulled her into his spindly shoulder, letting her head rest on his chest. This was what friends did right? He was highly aware of his increasing heartbeat as she rested there, and hoped that she wouldn’t notice it.

“I’m so sorry Aradia.” She looked at him, and even though he could barely see her face, he could see that she was smiling a bit. It was a tiny smile but also so fragile; not the confident, tough smile that she’d worn on stage the night before.

“I come here a lot to talk to mama. I like to let her know what’s new in my day-to-day; if I’ve met anyone special, if I’ve visited Damara, so on and so on.” Sollux shot her a wondering look; he hadn’t heard her mention that name before, when he gave it another thought, was to be expected. Even though they’d been hanging out all day, it was understandable that he didn’t know everything. It was weird though; he almost felt like he’d known her for years, and that this was their first day together. Weird. Although he was projecting a reasonable air of calm, internally the questioning had grown in volume. _What is this? Why are you so far outside of your comfort zone Sollux, why aren’t you at home? You’re an idiot, this is a mistake. She’s just using you for sympathy._ He gritted his teeth and unconsciously tightened his grip on her. _No. Focus on the moment._

Her hair smelled a lot like lilies. The smell was intoxicating and it filled his head completely. It must have been from her shampoo, unless she was some weird hippy-goth who washed her hair with actual lilies. Gently she looked up at him, breaking him from his bizarre train of thought, and pulled him into a full hug. And so they held each other under the dark sky. It went on long past the longest hug he’d ever had, and kept going. Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, she broke off from him and looked up at the sky, before levelling with him, her warm brown eyes meeting his shade-covered eyes. “Hey Sollux.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come home with you? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

His voice caught in his throat as he answered, “I… Aradia…”

She shook her head gently. “Nothing like that, I just need someone to be there.”

Sollux sighed deeply and nodded before taking her hand. The two made their way to the entrance of the cemetery once more, helping each other over the fence. Unfortunately this time, his luck ran out. As Sollux climbed over, he misplaced his foot, which unbalanced him dramatically and he smacked into the concrete roughly. Aradia cried out and ran to his side as he struggled to stand up, shakily swaying from side to side.

It was only then that he noticed that his glasses lying on the ground. She gasped as she saw his exposed eyes under the streetlight, no doubt disgusted by them. He turned away quickly, his inner monologue roaring. _Welp. That was it. Friendship over. Curtains close._ But as he turned back to the girl, he found her soft hand running up the side of his face. Her glittering eyes met his mismatched pair and stared through them, almost all the way to his soul. It was exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time.

“Sollux, your eyes are beautiful.”

“No, they’re fucking not.”

“Why would you say that?” Her soft eyes widened at his outburst.

“Because the universe wasn’t convinced that I was suffering enough when it gave me the screwed up brain I have.”

“Well I think you’re wrong. Both make you you.”

He shrugged and swiped at his battered bifurcated lenses clumsily, putting them back on his face. The screaming in his head quietened down dramatically, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She reached out and clenched his hand tightly between hers, before intertwining her fingers with his. He smiled nervously at her and they continued their stroll through the streets. The cold was biting through his hoodie and beanie, but he felt comfortable. There was no one on the empty streets and Aradia was humming the violin lines from one of the songs they’d been listening to earlier. She had a pretty good pitch. He guessed that was to be expected from a singer.

Finally, they made it to his apartment building and stepped into the elevator. There she rested against his chest, fingers clawing into his chest. It’s only then, in the well-lit elevator that he noticed just how thick the bags under her eyes were. It was evident that she’d previously had some makeup covering it up, but that had washed off in streaks when she’d cried at the graveside. He helped her through the hallway and moved her temporarily against the wall whilst he fumbled with his keys. As the door opened, the pair was briefly startled by a clunk as the front door smacked into Dave’s DJ equipment. Quietly, they made their way across the room to the couch, where he started to lower her down before she gripped into his neck and whispered “Please don’t go.”

He sighed and walked/carried her to his bedroom, where he lay her down on his soft double bed. She curled up and writhed until she was tangled up under his quilt. He switched off the light and sat on the bed beside her. Her hand reached up and pulled him down next to her and he found her face barely centimetres from his. The softest smile was traced across hers as she gently kissed his nose and closed her eyes. She pulled him closer to her and whispered.

“Sollux, I’m glad we met.” His heart was racing, his face was flushed, and god, he was happy the lights were out.

“Me too, A-A.” He wasn’t lying, she really was the best thing that had happened to him in a while, and while things were moving quickly, he was sure that it wasn’t out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving the feedback so far guys, please keep letting me know what you think, it seriously is a blessing on the soul as well as great help to me when I need enthusiasm.
> 
> This is where things are starting to get serious. We're starting to see the tip of the iceberg with Sollux's mental health and Aradia's got her whole truck of stuff that's starting to come through. With the perspective shift in the next chapter, we're going to be getting a real chance to delve way into Aradia's head and what's going on right now. Why is she pushing things with Sollux so much? It's all to come.
> 
> Also, a few notes on the music mentioned in this chapter:
> 
> \- La Dispute, dispute the slamming I gave them, is actually a really enjoyable band if you like that sorta emo, and I feel like a lotta their later work is stuff Sollux could actually relate to if he bothered.  
> \- En Plein Air is beautiful post-rock from Roma, Italy, and they combine guitars and violins beautifully, it makes a great listening experience. Make sure you check it out!


	4. Cracked Voices, Broken Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 for 4!

When Aradia woke, there was light pouring into the room that was definitely not hers. She felt bile rising into her throat as she struggled to recall the previous night, fearing the worst. When her mind informed her that no, she hadn’t slept with some guy from the bar whilst intoxicated, she remembered the previous day. The walks, the record shop, _getting fired._ She winced as she remembered how much she’d been pushing Sollux. The guy barely knew her and she was dragging him into graveyards in the middle of the night, sleeping in his bed, somehow getting a job with him? _What the hell Aradia?_ She scolded herself before looking over at the other sleeping person in the bed. Sollux was writhing around in the sheets, clearly having a disturbed sleep. She leant over and placed her hand on his arm, whispering his name. He jerked upright and looked at her, eyes wide, hair a mess. It was kinda cute in its own weird way. Internally she whacked herself on the hand. _Down, girl._ After a few panicky moments, he calmed down and reached to his bedside, pulling on his glasses. She frowned; she wished he’d keep them off for a while.

“Ugh, what time is it?” He propped himself up against his headboard and looked at her. The man ran his hand through his hair, evidently not used to being woken up so jarringly. Aradia was about to respond to the question when the door burst open and Dave Strider stood there, mouth slightly ajar. He looked back and forth before giving the faintest sign of a smirk.

“So, Captor, am I the best wingman, or am I the best wingman?” Sollux scowled and she giggled a little bit at the Strider’s straightforwardness. It would look like the two had done more than sleep together to any outsider so she was content to lie back and watch the altercation between the two roommates. Sollux was slowly turning red with frustration and as he opened his mouth to yell at the other man, Strider left with a final laughed “Use protection lovebirds,” before the door clicked shut behind him. Sollux had his face in his hands in exasperation. Aradia ran her hand up and down his back reassuringly.

“It’s alright Sollux, you were the perfect gentleman.” He glared at her and she had to stifle another giggle. It was hard for him to look all that serious when he had the dorky 3D lenses and messy bed hair. After untangling themselves from his bed-sheets, the two made their way into the main room where two plates of surprisingly well cooked food awaited them. There was toast, bacon, eggs, all served in an aesthetically pleasing manner. She found her mouth watering and sat down in the chair, quickly wolfing into the meal. On the other hand, Sollux was standing, looking incredulously at his food. Aradia turned and looked at him curiously.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t get it. Strider doesn’t do nice things for me. This is too nice.”

She shrugged; she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Cautiously Sollux sat down, carefully checking the food for any sign of sabotage, but found none. She smirked at his cautiousness. The food was cooked well, beyond her expectations at least. Apparently the Texan had some ability to cook. There was a crow of discovery as Sollux whipped out a scrap of paper from underneath his plate and waved it around before glaring at it. She was sure that if he glared any harder, it was going to ignite.

“What’s it say?”

He sighed, handing over the small piece of paper. On it, in clear red pen was a short message.

you owe me big time bro 

She giggled at the message before handing it back to Sollux who turned it over and grabbed a nearby pen, which was apparently yellow.

fuck you 2triider 

Huh, apparently Sollux had a bit of a quirk when he wrote things. She shrugged, it wasn’t like she could really comment; her own habitual quirk was to write 0’s instead of O’s. It’d been something she’d picked up as a little girl and she’d struggled with shaking it for years, until she’d eventually given up on trying, unless it was for an assignment. As she mused over her quirk, Sollux placed the new letter on top of the vinyl player. No sooner had he placed the letter down did he get a text from the owner of the gear.

Douchebag: touch my decks and lose the hands 

Sollux exploded furiously and started cursing out the Strider. Evidently this was a regular occurrence between the two of them, so Aradia let the blonde wear himself out, before he fell onto the couch in a huff. She got up from the table, moving her plate to the sink, which was surprisingly clean for two guys living alone. Sollux called out to her from the couch as she washed off her plate.

“Do you want to watch something? I’ve got a bunch of movies downloaded,” he offered. She smiled; there was one film she definitely wanted to watch with him.

“Have you got Indiana Jones on there?”

He looked up and nodded, quietly flicking through the files on his laptop. Soon, the opening scenes were flashing and she was lying on the couch with her head in his lap. There was something trustworthy bout him, something that made her feel like she could be physically close and comfortable all at the same time. It was a nice feeling. She mouthed along when Indy came on the screen and she felt a shudder through Sollux.

He was laughing, quietly, but still laughing. He hadn’t laughed before. It was a soft, melodious sound, the sound of someone who laughs rarely and indulges it even less. She nuzzled against him and smiled.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Maybe.”

“Ass.”

“Bitch.”                                                                                                      

They shared smirk before turning back to the movie. Indy was currently being pursued by a rock and she grinned. Classic moments were always just that. Sollux snickered when the Nazis’ faces burned off, which made her smile in turn. Always good to know that she wasn’t the only one with a morbid sense of humour.

“Sollux?”

“Mmh?”

“Am I overstaying my welcome?”

“No.”

“That’s good.”

After the brief spout of conversation, the two quieted down once again. As the movie came to a close, the quiet whistle of breath signalled that Sollux has fallen asleep. Unlike his sleep in the bed earlier, it’s not nearly as fitful. Rather, he looks more relaxed and calm then he has been for the whole day they’d spent together.

 Gently, she sat up, and ran a hand through her knotted hair. The combination of a lack of a shower and bed-hair was leaving her hair so knotty that she could barely run her fingers through it. She was used to her hair flying wildly, but this was a whole other thing entirely. Quietly making her way across the room, she retrieved a rug from Sollux’s room and placed it gently over him, not wanting him to get cold while he slept. After that, Aradia found herself with a startling lack of things to do; after all if she put on another movie, the change in volume might wake him up. As she was considering leaving, Aradia was suddenly confronted by the tanned Strider, who had apparently left his room for the first time that morning.

“So I hear you’re looking for a job?” he asked, his face as impassive as ever. She wondered idly if it had something to do with the shades; people can’t see your real emotions if they can see your eyes. Maybe Strider was constantly worried that people would take advantage of the portal to the soul thing, so he kept his eyes eternally covered by those old aviators. Nodding gently at his question, she moved over to one of the wooden seats, and he took the one opposite from her. He stretched out gently and nodded.

“Alright, that’s fair, but first I’m gonna have to make sure you aren’t just some kid who’s listened to The Cure and think she’s hot shit.” That was actually a pretty fair assumption. She idly wondered if an after-effect of listening to Goth music was the tendency to become hyper pretentious. Probably was.

“Fine, that’s not problem with me.”

“Do you like music?”

“No.” She decided to go with a light-hearted response; after all, it was early in the interview of sorts, what could go wrong?

“You’re hired.”                                                                     

What. _What._  “Are you joking?”

“No. I’m sick of every applicant coming in and being like ‘Oh please hire me Mister Strider, I listen to so much music oh I post on sooo many music forums’.” He scowled at the memory, or at least she thought it was a scowl. “I don’t care what you listen to as long as you’re a reasonable consult and don’t get caught up in semantics with customers. They’re assholes, but so are we. If I have workers who kiss the ass of every customer, then we’ll lose our reputation of not giving a fuck and that is something I cannot stand. It’s a grave fuckin’ injustice to accuse a Strider of giving a fuck, and I’m not gonna resolve to let my fuckin’ business be sullied by the realms of those who take shit seriously.” The verbal onslaught left Aradia stunned; when he got going, Dave didn’t slow down for anyone.

“So basically, wear whatever you want, don’t come in drunk to work, or high for that matter. Play whatever music you want in the shop, even if its outsider shit that drives normal customers away. We have a reputation to uphold; if some normal guy gets upset because we’re playing a marathon of kid’s music, then he can fuck off. You getting the drift?” She nodded her head, almost tempted to hold onto her seat from the dizzying pace.

“I know it doesn’t seem like a good idea to scare off customers, but the whole nutjob act brings in hipsters and people wanting to seem cool. Leave that to me, you just sell shit and try not to break anything. Cool?” This had to be the most bizarre introduction Aradia had had to a job, but she was already feeling excited about it. It was one thing to have a job, but to have a job doing something you wanted? That was priceless.

Dave went through some of the boring details next, filling her in on her pay (a whopping 8 dollars more than what she’d been making as a barista), how to deal with refunds and other miscellaneous information that would help her at the business. He also assigned her first shift to be “this afternoon with Strider-prime” because “Sollux may be your lover-boy but he might slack on some key things, so for this shift, you’re gonna tango with me.”

He directed her to the shower so that she could tidy up at the least, and Strider went off to “give Sollux notice that he was having his shift shuffled.” This, from what she saw involved a marker, a few dozen sticky-notes, and a shitty photograph of Sollux. Not waiting to see how those would be applied, Aradia stepped inside the bathroom, which was again, pretty clean. She rifled through her handbag, brushing a pad and a small packet of tissues out of the way as she found her miniature shampoo and conditioner that she took everywhere with her. It was oddly cathartic to strip off the clothes after being in them for nearly a full day and a half. She was definitely regretting taking off from home without getting changed. Quickly, she twisted the hot water tap on and stepped into the shower.

 The water washed away some of the grime that she’d picked up from the graveyard and she twirled gently under the steamy water. The pressure was pretty good and it had a pretty solid temperature setting, it wasn’t alternating violently between steaming hot and ice-cube cold. She got so carried away that she started to sing a song from her former band’s repertoire.

 _Bitter breezes chill my lungs_  
_Eyes widened by my fear_  
 _Of life and death and all between_  
 _The border of our minds_

The lyrics weren’t particularly great but they’d been some of the first things she’d ever written, and the whole thing was kinda aimless. It drifted from verse to verse with no real goals or aims.

 _But how many times will I come home to lacklustre cheers?_  
_How many times would I spend nights alone?_  
 _How will I never see you again?_

In retrospect it wasn’t even that gothic, it was pretty tame even by emo standards. Fortunately she’d improved a little since, but she still enjoyed the catchy vocal melodies.

She finally stepped out of the shower, towelling off and getting back into her clothes. As she rearranged her hair in the steamy mirror, she found herself checking out her face. The bags under her eyes weren’t so bad now that she’d had a decent night’s sleep, but it was still evident that she and sleep weren’t well acquainted. She looked down on her body, her too thin hips, her small shoulders, her noticeable collar bones. It was all evident that she didn’t eat enough. She grimaced coldly at the reflection. Sometimes she hated everything about her body, but she was determined to ignore the effects of years of negativity.

After she came out of the bathroom, Sollux jerked awake. He had sticky notes plastered all over his face, the shitty photograph pinned to his chest and a weird caricature drawn on his forehead. He shook his head violently, dislodging at least a few of them, but he was forced to pull the rest off, cursing Strider the whole way. Aradia wandered over and ruffled his hair, “There, there Sollux. I’ve got my first shift to go to!”  He nodded at her before slumping back on the couch. She kissed the back of his head and ran off to the door.

“I’ll see you later Sollux!”

He waved a hand up at her before sliding down once more. As she closed the door behind her, she slumped. It was if all of the emotions she’d been holding back were flooding over her, but she gritted her teeth. Just a few more hours. A few more hours till she’d be home. 

* * *

Yawning under her breath, Aradia glanced at the clock. She had enjoyed the shift so far, but this last half an hour was really starting to drag on her. Dave was doing a quiet rap under his breath, whilst there was a queue of three customers impatiently waiting in front of him. She wanted to try and get them to pay, but Dave insisted that making the customers “his bitch” was the most effective ways to do sales. Apparently they’d created such an atmosphere that the customers who came to the shop were masochists or had a weird hateboner for the people who worked there. There may have even been some overlap between the two groups. Finally Dave agreed to rack up the purchases and the customers left without a complaint. It was like some weird form of psychological programming. It was bizarre but it apparently worked.

As soon as the door swung open, Dave jumped over the counter and threw Aradia her coat. “Let’s shut up shop quick before anyone else comes in.” She caught it and swung it on, following him out as he guided her through the lockup procedure. Dave turned to go before looking back at her. “You coming?”

“No, I really need to go home and clean up the house. I couldn’t impose on you guys again.” Dave shrugged at her response. How he remained so eternally nonchalant was a source of mystery to her.

“No big. _Mi casa es tu casa,_ come by whenever you want. I’m sure Sol wouldn’t give too shits and I’m pretty impartial to you too.” With that last roundabout compliment, Dave walked off into the night, kicking his right foot every few steps. The continuous pattern echoed off until he was too far into the street to be heard. She smiled. Two new friends in less than a day. That was always a really nice feeling. But as she walked in the direction of her apartment, Aradia felt the claws set in on him. The cold depressive hands embraced her and instantly it was like her good mood had completely gone.

As she walked down the street with her head down, the good memories from the last day and half had become more faded and the feelings of revulsion that she’d had from the discussion with Rick. She knew that to go against her former therapist’s orders to not skip sleep or meals. The combination of a week of sleeplessness had caught up with her, not to mention not eating at least 3 meals a day. Even with a decent meal and sleep at Sollux’s, she was feeling the deprivation in her whole body. She just needed to get home. If she got there, made some comfort food and watched an archaeology documentary then maybe the slump wouldn’t feel so bad.

When she finally made it home, she quickly set about making a salad for herself and booted up her computer, setting up a film she’d downloaded a while back. As the opening sequences played and the narrator started to talk about the Aztec civilisation, Aradia started to change her clothes, pulling on a grandma jumper and leggings. Slumping onto her seat he stared at the screen. Normally, she’d be thoroughly engaged by all of the intricacies of the civilisation and its history, but that wasn’t the case tonight. It was just a blank wave of noise covering her and no matter how hard she focussed; nothing was going in to her head. She tried to take notes but after a few lines, the words were blurring into one garbled mess. Angrily, she threw her pen across the room where it smacked into the window, displacing the dust that had settled upon it.

The slumps were the worst. It was one of the contributing factors to why she’d struggled to maintain relationships. She lay down with her head on the desk and listened to the sounds of the soft rain outside. It pattered lightly on the roof and pinged slightly off the window. She reached around for her iPod. Maybe she could find some tunes that would be able to focus her a little. Even through the faux-optimism, she struggled to believe it. She sighed and turned around in her chair, kicking her legs over the armchair. Maybe sleeping would help.

Deep down she knew that she was lying to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw Aradia, don't worry things are gonna get better. I think.
> 
> No real notes for this chapter except to note that I had the conversation regarding The Cure with a friend of mine, who, however, is not a Texan. Sad face.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and bookmarks!


	5. Manic Grins, Depressive Grins

Everything was great. Nothing could touch Sollux when things when were this good. He pulled back and smacked the panel shut, screwing it back in flat out. He stood up for a quick stretch and looked around himself happily. There was 6 various computers in states of disarray. The Captor had bought them all on a whim and was now basking in just how good he was at repairing things. Sure, he’d busted 3 in the process, but now they were just good spare parts for his other creations. Dave had offered him so extra shifts because apparently Aradia was under the weather and he’d taken them graciously. He’d even made close to triple the sales he’d make under normal circumstances. It was like he was cruising on top of the world with all of the wind in his sails.

He glanced at his phone where’d he been having a conversation with one of his Uni-buds, Karkat Vantas.

\--You started talking to carcinoGenetecist (Karkat Vantas) at 7:18 A.M--

TA: kk.  
TA: what are you doiing?  
TA: why arent you awake yet?  
TA: normally youre up earliier than me.  
TA: vanta2 what the fuck are you doiing?  
CG: JESUS FUCK SOLLUX.  
CG: HAVE YOU FUCKING ENTERED A STATE OF PURE SLEEPLESSNESS ONCE AGAIN?  
CG: IF YES I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK, STOP IT NOW.  
CG: YOU’RE A DICKHEAD AND IT’S A PAIN IN MY FUCKING ASS THAT YOU TAKE UP OXYGEN THAT I USE AS WELL.  
CG: SO SERIOUSLY THIS BETTER BE FUCKING IMPORTANT  
CG: IF NOT I’M GOING THE FUCK BACK TO SLEEP.  
TA: hehe youre 2o funny when you get all hyped up.  
TA: 2eriiously kk you should be a fuckiing comedian.  
TA: its two much for me brb dyiing of laughter.  
TA: rest iin fuckiing piieces.  
CG: CHRIST I FUCKING HATE YOU.  
CG: I DON’T EVEN HAVE VOCABULARY TO FUCKING DESCRIBE YOU?  
CG: YOURE SO MUCH OF A DONKEY’S ASS THAT SOMEWHERE, A FUCKING MULE IS WALKING AROUND ASKING FOR ITS ASS BACK  
CG: AND ITS BEEN WALKING AROUND SINCE THE MIDDLE AGES.  
CG: HOW COULD YOU BE SO FUCKING CRUEL.  
CG: AND WITH THAT LOVELY THOUGHT  
CG: FUCK YOU, GOODBYE, AND FUCK YOU HEARTILY.

\--carcinoGenetecist (Karkat Vantas)has logged the fuck out!-- 

_What an asshole._ Not that Sollux gave two shits, he was on cloud 22 right about now, and nothing was bringing him down. That train of thought made him remember something he’d been meaning to do, so he lept to his feet excitedly and bounced out into the main room. Dave wasn’t there because he’d taken the morning shift and was most likely trying to “ironically” serve customers, which usually involved serving them badly. It was not something Sollux believed in, but he was on a roll so, hey, fuck it.

Sollux moved through the room and grabbed his coat. When he broke out into the fresh air, he felt so alive that he wanted to punch the air or sing out loud. Instead, he opted to run down the street in the direction of the university. When he got there, then he’d be able to make some money picking up people’s tech for repairs, and he’d probably be able to catch up with some of the gang. About halfway up the street, his lungs started to burn but he could barely feel it over his elation. His feet pounded the pavement ruthlessly and he felt like he was going to grow wings at any point.

When he hit the halfway point between his apartment and the university, he was feeling a little unbalanced but why stop now? The world was kinda swaying now but who cares about that, today was going to be great! He came to a brief stop at the lights before ignoring the signal. He couldn’t be touched today, what the hell. But as he came to the middle of the intersection, a blaring horn brought him to a stop and he froze as a car screeched to a halt in front of him, the driver screaming at the top of her lungs. Flicking her off, he continued his run, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. That had been close, but not close enough! Nothing could touch him today.

Finally he arrived at the University campus and was panting heavily when he walked through one of the gates. Everything was starting to get a little weird, as if he was watching through long tunnel and it was getting blurry around the edges. Even when he looked down at his watch, there was a great distance, even though he could swear that he was looking at it point blank. Why was everything starting to twirl? He could vaguely hear something he thought was shouting. That was weird, it wasn’t often that people shouted on campus. Suddenly everything started to spin, as if he were some sort of spinning top.

_Oh hey, it’s the ground._

Sollux smashed bodily into the pavement and it was like his lungs were contracting rapidly. No big deal, he ran his hand down to his pocket where he kept his puffer. Wait, where was it? Why weren’t his fingers working? It felt like everything was collapsing around him and fading out. A pair of people were running towards him but it felt like they were on a running machine because they weren’t going anywhere.

_What’s going on?_

* * *

_There was so many voices. They all sounded weird and distorted, like they were underwater. It was like everyone was saying things but all he could hear was glubs._

_“The fucking asshole forgot his goddamn puffer, and then tried to run a fuckin’ marathon, you braindead incompetent excuse for a doctor.”_

_“Hey c’mon Karbro, that’s a bit motherfuckin’ rough.”_

_“Gamzee you brainmangled twat, don’t fuckin’ give me your stupid hippy shit right now.”_

_“Man, you need to motherfucking’ chill out, it ain’t gonna help Solbro none.”_

_“Literally could not give a flying shitfuck right now Gamzee, right now, I could give less fucks if the son of god spawned in front of me wearing a rainbow codpiece.”_

_The voices are fading again. He’s so tired._

* * *

Groaning, Sollux propped himself upright. The strong smell of antiseptic punctured the air and he looked around in confusion.  Karkat was staring back at him, his vitiligo stained skin making his angry expression look kind of mellow. Next to him was the wild haired Gamzee, who’d attempted to stuff at least some of his hair into his beanie, but the wild untamed mess refused to obey that command and was sprawling wildly out from under it. His dopey smile evidenced that he was at the least baked, if not high on something else.

Sollux smiled, but even the tiny movement filled him with pain. His lungs burned painfully as he rested back and looked at the two boys. “What’s up assholes.” With his current level of exhaustion, he could barely sum up the energy to fight his lisp. Even his phrasing barely sounded like a question. _What the fuck happened?_ He’d felt so good but now he just felt unspeakably exhausted. It was like he was in a thick casing of honey and could barely move through it, or breathe. His eyes flickered down to the bed and he saw that he was wearing a mask and gown. God, it was like he’d been hit by a car. His eyes closed softly as Karkat started to explain what had happened.

“So, despite your god-awful wakeup call, I had to be at Uni early and was chilling out at the coffee stop when this asshole,” he gestured blindly at Gamzee before continuing, “rocked up and wanted to get me to try some shitty fucking herbal tea that looked and smelled like it’d been brewed with some awful white hippie’s rotting dreads. So while we were drinking piss-tea, who do we see but idiot in chief Sollux fucking Captor running like a goddamned moron up the path, except oh now what’s that? He fucking forgot that he’s asthmatic and was so much of an idiot that he forgot his fucking puffer.” Karkat spat the last word out like it was poisonous before shaking his head. “So then you fucking collapsed and we had to called the goddamn paramedics to come pick you up and for some fucking reason they thought Gamzee was your caregiver and it was a dickup and a half, so we ended up riding the ambulance with you to the hospital. Gamzee had a big dopey smile on his face, as if remembering how great the ambulance ride was. His skinny companion wasn’t finished yet. “And then we fucking arrived here, and some asshole with a stab-wound puked on my good shoes so now thanks to your goddamn idiocy, I’m puked stained and it’s not going away any time soon! So thanks Captor, thank a fucking lot!” He took a big breath, and huffed.

“Sorry.”

The other man shook his head, “Don’t be fucking sorry, you idiot. I know you were manic so it’s not your fault really, but fuck. I could have really gone without the puke on my shoes.”

Sollux laughed at that; picturing Karkat trying to re-stab a stab-wound survivor in anger over his shoes being ruined. In his current state, he assumed that he probably had the same level of expression as Gamzee. He shivered at the thought. He’d never sunk lower than that. Quietly, he slipped back into the realms of sleep, shivering a bit at how dark it was in his mind. It was as if the golden high of the morning had completely evaporated.

 The door suddenly rattled on its frames and there was a thud as whatever had crashed into it hit the floor. Sollux rolled over and glanced at the door. There was a bit of a scuffling noise and what looked like someone straightening out their clothes. The door slid open and Aradia came through, a sheepish grin on her face. Her hair looked as if it had gone through a cyclone and come out barely intact, her makeup was a smudged mess and her clothes were all ruffled as if she’d rolled down a hill to get there.

“Oh thank god.” She flew across the room and wrapped her arms around Sollux, pulling him into a crushing hug which only served to exacerbate his current agony. There were a few moments of silence and a soft giggle from Gamzee before she released her hold on him, looking into his eyes, as if performing a physical on him based purely on the look in his eyes. A few moments passed before she nodded and sat down on the bed, narrowly avoiding his left leg. She reached over and pulled his hand into hers, squeezing it tightly, smiling.

“Thank god you’re alright.”

“I think I might puke.” Karkat actually looked a little green around the gills as he stood up and grabbed Gamzee’s sleeve. “C’mon let’s give these two nausea-inducing freaks some time to be alone.” Sollux opened his mouth to say something sarcastic but the two were already gone before he had time to phrase any sort of response at all. Aradia took a deep breath and he looked over at her, a questioning look moving across his face.

“I was… just so worried when Dave called and told me what had happened.” She choked out, her voice strained and strung with emotions. “It made me realise a lot of things, y’know? Not just that ‘Oh my god Sollux is in trouble’.” He softly tilted his head, wondering where she was going with this train of thought. “It was more like, I don’t know,” she mumbled, struggling to find the words to describe what she was feeling. It was okay though, Sollux was patient enough to know that she’d get there in the end. “I think it was a bit more than friendship? Like, it was this closer thing.”

_No way._ Sollux’s breath hitched in his aching lungs as all the hospital noises. _Is she?_

“I like you Sollux. Ever since we met that night, it’s just been this road to us getting closer and I…” Suddenly as if realising what she was saying Aradia gasped and held a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening. He reached out and grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes, disregarding the aching pain all over him. For a few moments the two stared deep into each other’s eyes, a strong blush painting both of them shades of red. As Sollux went to speak, she finally relaxed her grip on his mouth and let him speak, removing her hand from his mouth.

“I…” His mouth was dry. He’d never had to respond to any kind of confession before, and definitely not one of this magnitude. Of course there’d been the joking ones he’d received from Dave, but this was a different wheelhouse entirely.

“Oh,” she grimaced and turned away.

“No, it’s not like I’m saying no, I’ve just, y’know.”

“I don’t know Sollux, use your words.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I _just_ said that I don’t.”

“You know that I love you.”

The air was still. There was a soft rustling of hair and Aradia turned around to face him, a small quivering smile playing across her lips. She took one small step and leant in, kissing him once on the cheek. Her soft lips made the slightest of smacks and she pecked him gently and leant back.

“That’s all you get whilst you’re so weak.”

Sollux shook his head before lying back down in his bed. His discoloured eyes stared upwards and slowly his eyelids flickered shut. It was as if every ounce of adrenaline he’d ever had was suddenly sucked out of him. The light started to flicker out and he let his eyes stay shut. Sleep wasn’t so bad when you had something to wake up to.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no music in this chapter to talk about, unfortunately. However if you want to get an idea of the music that is best listened to this chapter in:  
> www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9F2ZkZg4tI for part one  
> www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJKyuta-xlI for the hospital


End file.
